Royal Oak Rejects RC

 The next evening [Friday] I was in the pub with my mates giggling about my latest escapade and swore to cut up said beetle and turn it into a TRIKE. Over a few pints a bet was conceived [of a few more pints] that I couldn’t build said TRIKE for less than £500.

 Not being one to resist a challenge, like a rat on a tater, the very next day [Saturday] at 8.30 am, I cut up my beloved beetle on my mums drive. Having now the rear end of my tricycle, I now needed the front wheel, forks and bars , so, as I didn’t have a car anymore [cock] I asked my mum to give me a lift to the local bike breakers 40 mile away!

 The plot thickened, the nice man at the scrap yard wanted £750 for the front end of a suitable motorcycle [knob]. So that was a “no” then!

Later that night in the pub, I was drowning my sorrows about the £750 he wanted for the front end and that I didn’t have a car anymore, when a solution was found in the form of  my mate Pete’s [Pete mate] old Yamaha 750 grey import. It was battered and bruised and the back-end was creamo-crackered, the sum of £20 was changed hands and Pete immediately drank it!

 The next morning, [Sunday] I was on a mission, I loaded welding rods, cutting discs and Pete’s old bike into my brother’s van and by 10.30am Pete’s old nail would never look the same again, nor would mum’s drive. Not having much room on mum’s drive, I moved the bits I wanted to my brother’s barn and set to work and set to it with anything I could lay my hands on. Scaffolding tube made a good frame as it sat neatly inside the VW chassis and was the same diameter as the headstock on Pete’s old knacker.

Work continued into the night. 2 Calor gas canisters welded together made the fuel tank, an old oak bed supplied the running boards, mum’s old washing machine made the “flame” mudguards.  A robot from the TV. show “Robot wars” I had in the shed gave up its armour for the side panels and seat base, and my dear old mum lost her wheelbarrow in the search for handlebars!

 First thing Monday morning, with my ageing mother holding the video camera and the cries of “Oh Paul, do be careful” and “do you think its safe” [mothers], I took it for a spin. All that was missing was Jonny Cash singing 69 automobile, “10/4 good buddy, this is cotton mouth in the psycho-Billy cadillac, c’mon!”  Later that night I invited my mates around to my flat to watch the video and celebrate over a beer.

 However, although I’ve taxed worse, it wasn’t legal. I needed a MSVA test [bollocks]

So, in the next few weeks, I stripped and painted, wired and illuminated the beast till the big day came for me to take it to VOSA.

 Nervously I put my new mode of transport under the scrutiny of the tester [very nice man!] and after 2 ½ hours of prodding he informed me it had failed on 4 small things:

 The brake and clutch pedals were 2mm too wide! They would scrape your legs just before I ran you over with the back wheels. Solution: big file.

 The mirrors, flat glass not good! Solution:  Borrow some “convex ones” from the shop next door.

 Grommets, I had forgotten to put them in the mud-guard stays, solution: Silicone!

 Lastly, the Speedo, I had converted the “grey import” from KPH to MPH, by sanding and drilling the dial which was good but had forgotten to write “MPH” under the glass! Solution: Biro!

 RESULT:  PASS!

 After adding the cost of thing like Pete’s bike, paint, nic-naks, MSVA test £85 registration fee: £38, insurance:£150, tax:£33. It all came to the meagre sum of £564 and as that included tax and insurance I won the bet……witch I drank immediately!

 As for my “date”……SOD HER, AND HER WOOLLY HAT!